


Misunderstanding

by alafaye



Series: Valentine's 2012 [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's the asexual one. (Minor OOC for John.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a personal challenge to write pieces that are not the usual that pop up around Valentine's.

There were strawberries and champagne in the fridge. John blinked. He picked up the bottle and read the label. A good year and brand if he guessed. The strawberries were very fresh (how did Sherlock find those?!) and looked perfect for eating. He closed the door and went back to the sitting room. Sherlock was reclined on the sofa in his preferred position, looking as though he was only thinking about a case and not at all like a man who had put champagne and strawberries in the fridge. 

"What's the experiment, then?" John asked. "Determining if they will get a person laid more than without them?"

"No, they're a gift," Sherlock said quietly.

Oh. John nodded. "Right then. Should I expect you home tonight or not?"

Sherlock frowned at John. "What are you talking about?"

"You said they're a gift," John said. "Which usually means giving the items to someone else."

Sherlock stared for several long moments. "Ah. Forgive me, I did not think you would not guess that properly. They are a gift--for you."

"Me?" John shifted, wondering. "Why?"

"I am told it is one of the usual gifts one gives on the holiday," Sherlock said. "I had presumed that you would appreciate them. Perhaps chocolate? I can return them and get you some chocolate instead."

"No, no, wait." John took a deep breath. "Why give me a gift?"

"It's traditional," Sherlock repeated. When John continued to blank on what he was missing, Sherlock sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. "Oh, that I am surrounded by idiots. Today is Valentine's, correct? One gives gifts to one's sweetheart today."

"Sweetheart? Sherlock--we're not--"

"We are. In many ways. Most of our time is spent together. I am the bread winner; you are the house keeper. Most of our meals are shared."

"How nice of you to return relationships back fifty years."

"Hmm?"

"Defining and assigning roles based on what was once considered the man's job and the woman's job."

"Feminist."

"Chauvinist."

"Regardless. The NSY has a pool going on when we will announce to all and sundry that we are, as they suspect, together."

"Doesn't mean we are or that we will. We're not dating or sweethearts or anything like that. Just flat mates."

Sherlock was suspiciously quiet. John threw up his hands in frustration and left, back to the kitchen. He should know, by now, that entering the kitchen would result in only disaster or confusion or disgust. He just wasn't sure what today was.

~~~

In the evening, watching the news (or trying to, over Sherlock's derisive comments), John considered the gifts again. He had given them a little thought throughout the day, but there was one bit he kept coming back to. "You know those are just basically for men who wish to ask for sex, not love on the holiday."

"What?" Sherlock drawled, bored.

"They're considered aphrodisiacs," John said. "A man who gets those for his sweetheart wants more than dinner and a movie today."

"Most dates tonight will end in sex," Sherlock said. "What difference does it make?"

"Just wondering why you choose those instead of something else, like the chocolate."

"Why didn't you just ask that? And I choose those because I had hoped as you predicted that perhaps we could finally have sex together."

"You can't just decide that we're in a relationship and then fix a date for when we're supposed to have sex! I didn't even agree to a relationship never mind presume we're in one!"

"My apologies. John--may we date?"

"No."

Sherlock sighed and twisted himself up in his chair. "Can we at least have sex?"

"Is that what you were after this entire time? Be truthful."

"I would never say no. I find you aesthetically pleasing and have considered how we might have sex many times."

"You've masturbated over that?"

"Of course. Haven't you?"

John swallowed hard. "No, I haven't."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "You're hiding something. What is it? Don't want to admit that you, who perceived yourself as straight, are having fantasies over your male roommate? No, scratch that. What is it?" John shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with this scrutiny. Finally, Sherlock gasped. "Oh. Of course. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have presumed. You're asexual!"

John flushed and crossed his arms. "Might be, yeah."

"And the rumors from your time in the army--rumors," Sherlock breathed. "Oh. Brilliant."

John narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Sherlock waved his hand. "Nothing. I apologize. I shouldn't have assumed--I'm sorry."

"Stop that. You never apologize for anything. I don't want to hear it now when it doesn't matter."

Sherlock was silent again. "Can I take you out to dinner?"

The corner of John's mouth twitched in amusement. "Dinner?"

"Yes. Clearly you want to be wined and dined before you consider a relationship. Let's go out."

"I haven't agreed."

"You have."

John sighed. "Sherlock."

"I may have sexual needs, but I prefer to not address them and more prefer to not have a partner who wants to address them. This is brilliant--don't you see? We can both have a relationship where neither feels pressured to give up something we don't want to."

"And what about when you do want sex? I'll never want it, Sherlock. I'm completely asexual--I can't tell you how many girlfriends I've lost when I refused to even go down on them."

"I have managed all these years with just my hand. I can and will continue to do so. Now, up! Dinner."

"Do I even have a choice?"

"Do you want one?"

John smiled and shook his head. "You're a prat."

"Your prat."

"Oh, no. None of that. I don't like romantic language or gestures."

"Then we will continue on as we always have. See--I was right. We have been in a relationship."

"Buy me dinner first and I might consider it."

"Then I'll be on my best behavior."

"Don't or I'll think you're on something. Again."

"Just say we're in a relationship and I won't behave oddly."

"Dinner. First."

"Fine. Then--"

"Yes, all right. I will. After dinner."

Sherlock beamed all the way to the restaurant.


End file.
